


Cherry Garcia

by Neroli66



Series: Kink Wars [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-10-10
Updated: 2006-10-10
Packaged: 2019-09-15 11:40:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16932618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neroli66/pseuds/Neroli66
Summary: Part of a Kink War series, originally posted on LJ in 2006





	Cherry Garcia

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Dean’s response to Sammy’s actions in [](https://kueble.livejournal.com/profile)[**kueble**](https://kueble.livejournal.com/)‘s fic [Chunky Monkey](http://kueble-fic.livejournal.com/23750.html). You don’t _have_ to read hers first but you probably should. It’ll make a lot more sense and she’ll be posting a response to this one shortly. ;-)
> 
> Beta'd by the lovely, awesome, talented [](https://poisontaster.livejournal.com/profile)[](https://poisontaster.livejournal.com/)**poisontaster**...any flaws left over are totally 100% my fault. I swear, I learn more about how to be a better writer every time she beta's for me.

Sam lay dozing on his back; vague recollections of a soft kiss planted along his neck just under his ear, a whispered promise to be back soon and later, the press of Dean’s knees along his sides drifting lazily across his awareness.

There was a sharp tang of snow and frosty, winter air clinging to Dean’s clothes; but the hands that were running lightly yet firmly up his sides were as warm as ever. Dean loved to wake him up like this, his hands softly exploring the naked expanse of Sam’s skin before slowly growing more insistent, pulling Sam gently from sleep and making him horny as hell.

So it wasn’t until Sam felt the soft, fuzzy _thing_ wrap around his right wrist and heard the soft click of a lock catching that the feeling of wrongness hit him.

“Dean, what the fuck…” he heard his voice, raspy and panicked, as he came awake with a jolt. He tried to pull his arms down but Dean already had his left wrist captured and the handcuff snapped closed. Just when the fuck had Dean gotten fuzzy, pink handcuffs anyway? “What the hell? This isn’t funny, Dean.”

“Relax, Sammy.” Dean sounded reassuring enough to still Sam for a second, long enough to focus on his brother’s eyes and see the concern and amusement lurking there under the desire. He felt Dean’s hand press down firm between his pectorals. “It’s going to be okay. I won’t hurt you, promise.”

And Sam believed him; no matter what, he trusted Dean with his life. So he forced a gulp of air into his lungs and told his body to relax. He’d never known that Dean had this - _kink_ \- but he could do this, for Dean.

His head bobbed in a jerky nod as Dean’s fingers stroked across his chest in a feathery caress and that slow, sexy grin spread across Dean’s lips like molasses.

He watched as Dean’s gaze dropped lower, to Sam’s torso trapped between his thighs. Callused, warm, familiar hands moved down his stomach to his hips, pressing slowly across his skin. Dean’s strokes were firm, not the feather-light brushes of blunt fingertips that he usually started off with; but Sam felt the first tremor of anticipation snake down his spine at this new sensation.

He’d thought Dean had already explored him in every way possible. But this, this was new. It was still his body, still Dean’s touch, but the handcuffs made everything - tilt.

Dean kept his thumbs close together and his fingers splayed out to Sam’s sides as he worked them back up. He traced slowly over each rib before brushing firmly against Sam’s nipples, sending shockwaves straight to Sam’s dick. Dean’s smile widened at the spasm that passed through Sam; he lazily traced Sam’s areoles causing Sam to moan softly before his hands finally spread apart to travel up Sam’s arms.

An icy smell still lingered on Dean’s shirt as he hovered over him and Sam fervently wished that Dean would remove it and let the scent of warm, bare skin fill his senses instead.

Dean bent towards him and Sam felt his pulse quicken in anticipation of a kiss, but Dean simply rested his face alongside his; his cheek scratchy and his breath a balmy puff that tickled Sam’s ear before he sat back up. Sam’s breath caught at the gleam in Dean’s eyes as he whispered, “God, Sammy, you look so fucking gorgeous like this.”

Then he leaned back down, one hand wrapping around the back of Sam’s neck as his teeth ground against his lips, demanding entrance. Sam shivered as he opened for Dean’s kiss, allowing Dean to angle his head as warm tongue and the tang of Dean scraped across his taste buds.

This wasn’t Dean kissing him for comfort, reassurance that they were both alive. Nor was it a way to pass the time, two kids overloaded with hormones and no other outlet in sight. It wasn’t Dean branding him, claiming Sam for his own either.

This was Dean sure of his possession. Confident in his right to slide his tongue brazenly against Sam’s; and he could feel his body responding eagerly to Dean’s blatant assault.

He arched up into Dean as much as his position allowed, a low moan of pleasure pushed up out of his lungs to be swallowed by Dean’s mouth. The slip of Dean’s tongue against the roof of his mouth sent another shudder coursing through his body.

Dean teased him, starting with long wet swipes along the inside of Sam’s mouth and then he pulled back until Sam was moaning desperately and thrusting his tongue into his older brother's sweltering heat.

Once Dean had Sam’s tongue in his mouth, he clamped his lips tight against Sam and started sucking on it like it was the best cock he’d ever had. Sam’s hands pressed up and back against the bars as he strained against Dean; almost weeping with relief when Dean tightened the grip on the back of his neck, giving him the pressure he craved.

Sam whimpered helplessly; his toes curling down into the mattress as his body writhed under Dean. He was positive that if Dean kept this up much longer he’d have Sam coming from this kiss alone.

He was hard and gasping for air when Dean finally let up. A shudder ran through his body at the abrupt loss of contact and a strange mewling sound was coming out of his throat. His dick ached for some kind of friction and Sam twisted his hips frantically but the thin, cotton sheet that loosely covered him provided little relief.

Sam’s only thought was that – for as talented as Dean was with his pretty mouth – he’d never gotten Sam this close to orgasm without touching his cock. Dean loves his cock.

There might be something to this tied up business, Sam thought, even as he struggled to get loose and rip Dean’s clothes off. It was just like Dean to still be fully clothed while Sam was going insane.

Dean chuckled softly as he leaned over and grabbed a brown paper bag off the nightstand, a smirk twisting his lips as he pulled out a pint of Cherry Garcia ice cream and a plastic spoon. It wasn’t Sam’s favorite flavor, but he knew Dean liked it so he wasn’t surprised.

“Payback’s a bitch, isn’t it Sammy?” he asked, a devilish gleam in his eyes as he took the top off and started running the spoon across the top, slowly gathering up the ice cream. Sam moaned softly in distress as Dean licked the spoon clean.

He had a pretty good idea what was coming now and he wished Dean would just get on with it already, but Dean was collecting another spoonful of the frozen treat and slowly sucking it down. Sam planted his feet on the mattress and tried to grind his hips up against Dean’s ass, a low growl of frustration as his dick was denied full contact by jeans, sheet and Dean’s agonizingly out of reach position escaped his lips.

It was only after eating another four or five good sized spoonfuls before Dean made his next move.

Leaning down, he took one of Sam’s nipples into his ice cold mouth. Sam whimpered as his hips bucked up against his brother but Dean just sucked gently on the trapped nipple and did that tongue flicking thing he did that drove Sam wild.

Sam could feel himself brush lightly, stiff and leaking, against Dean’s ass but Dean kept his position far up Sam’s hips, too far up for him to get any real friction going. He wasn’t even giving Sam the pleasure of feeling his own smooth, hard cock rubbing against Sam’s stomach, just the hint of its presence still trapped in worn, tight jeans.

As soon as Dean’s mouth started warming back up, the bastard went and sucked down another spoonful of ice cream. Sam shivered as Dean leaned down to run his tongue across his upper body, working his way slowly up to Sam's neck.

At least the sheet still covering his lower half and the heat of Dean straddling his hips kept the cold from affecting anything lower than his belly button. But then again, that was probably the point. Sam just wished the heat of Dean was focused a little lower on his pelvis so that he could relieve some of the tension coiling deep in his abdomen and the ache in his cock.

Dean shifted higher up Sam’s body and suddenly his mouth was filled with cold and chocolate and cherry and _Dean_ and Dean was grinding down against him - hard and hot - and Sam could hear the low growl of _want_ deep in his own chest as he thrust his hips up into the air helplessly.

Dean started trailing wet, sloppy kisses down the center of his torso and a low whimper escaped him as Dean slid down further, his crotch rubbing almost painfully over Sam’s throbbing dick. He could feel the worn-out fabric of the sheet being pulled down as Dean scooted to end of the bed on his knees, planting soft kisses across Sam‘s stomach as he went.

Then Dean made a slight shift to the side and gave the sheet a tug and the only thing keeping Sam away from Dean was the fact that he couldn’t get his hands loose to peel the layers of clothes off him. It was the most frustratingly erotic sensation Sam had ever felt.

At least, it was until Dean swirled his tongue into Sam’s belly button.

“Oh holy _fuck_ ,” Sam’s hips jerked into Dean’s chest, soft t-shirt denying him contact with his brother’s skin. His head pressed back hard onto the pillow and his long fingers wrapped in a white knuckle grip around the bedposts he was chained to. Whimpers and moans that he barely recognized as coming from his own mouth filled his ears and his hazy mind wondered a little that he hadn’t bucked Dean right off the bed.

But Dean was pressing his hips firmly back down into the bed and chuckling softly as he continued to explore Sam’s belly button; light puffs of air skittered across his stomach and Sam could feel his cock jolt in response.

Sam had nearly forgotten about the ice cream but, apparently, Dean had not. He watched in helpless enthrallment as Dean took a spoonful of the stuff and carefully pushed it into his belly button. The cold made the muscles in his abdomen twitch and oh, God, he better not use that cold mouth trick on Sam's dick or he’ll fucking kill him.

Dean had already put the container on the floor and was busy lapping the ice cream up from where it was melting on Sam's stomach. Sam let his head fall back and his eyes close, the shiver of cold dissolving away under Dean’s blazing tongue. Dean’s fingers stayed pressed tight against Sam's hipbones as his tongue continued slowly licking up the sticky ice cream.

Soon all that was left was a piece of chocolate and a cherry that Dean had somehow managed to wedge in Sam's navel and _oh God_ he was sucking it out and it felt almost as good as Dean’s lips wrapped around his cock.

“Dean,” he managed to grunt out as the need for those lips overwhelmed him, “now. I need it _now_.”

He moaned softly as Dean crawled back up him to claim his lips for one last hungry kiss before sliding down and trailing his hot tongue over the head of Sam’s cock; delicately collecting the drop of fluid leaking from his tip. And then Dean was pressing his lips down over Sam’s distended cock, taking him in to the hilt.

Sam felt his head hit the pillow again as an inarticulate sound he was pretty sure meant _ohthankfuckinggod_ managed to work past the constriction in his throat; his back arched up off the bed, the sheets sticky with sweat under him. The ache in his arms from the strain of trying to get free was forgotten as every nerve ending in his body focused on the searing hot wetness of Dean’s mouth.

Sam lifted his head from the pillow so he could view Dean’s lips wrapped around him. Even now, stretched obscenely around Sam’s swollen cock, his lips were the most beautiful thing Sam had ever seen.

Sam wasn’t sure how much more he could take when Dean pulled back, the sharp scrape of teeth running along the underside of Sam’s cock sent a spasm of electric need through him. Sam longed for nothing more than to clutch Dean’s head and force those lips back down where they belonged.

Instead, he thrust his hips up eagerly into Dean’s mouth. He missed the extra leverage he’d had before Dean’s weight had settled over his legs, but the sensation of Dean’s strong thighs pinning his between them and Dean’s dexterous, moist tongue working over him was worth it.

No one was better at deep-throating than Dean. No one; and Sam knew that better than anyone.

This was going to be hard and fast and dirty, he realized that already. Just the thought of Dean’s lips stretching around him and the sight, _feel_ , of Dean’s cheeks hollowing out as he started sucking him off was enough to nearly send Sam over the edge.

He managed to hold on until Dean swiped his tongue across the underside of his dick and then he was lost, coming in long, hot spurts down Dean’s throat. He could feel Dean swallowing around his cock as he came, throat muscles working to squeeze every last drop out of him.

His hips twitched helplessly under Dean’s ministrations and the need to smooth the sweaty hair on the back of Dean’s neck pulsated through him.

“Fuck, Dean,” he groaned as his whole body went limp in the aftermath. He managed to lift his head as Dean released his cock with a slight popping sound.

Dean straightened up onto his knees and lifted both his shirts off with one smooth move before he reached down and started to unbuckle his belt. Sam watched - still dazed - as Dean undid his zipper and shimmied out of his jeans; taking a moment to pull his cell phone out of his jeans' pocket before discarding them on the floor.

Sam could see the tension coiled up in Dean’s body; it was there in the set line of his jaw, the stiffness of his shoulders, and the red swollen silhouette of his cock against his taut abdomen.

“Sammy,” Dean whispered, his voice harsh and low. Sam let the sound drag his gaze from Dean’s throbbing cock up to his face. There was an intense need in Dean’s eyes as their gaze locked. “Sammy, you are so fucking beautiful, I need you to see yourself like this.”

Before Sam could fully process what Dean was talking about, his brother had snapped open his phone and taken a picture. Of him, laid out naked and open, freshly fucked and trussed up to the headboard of some sleazy motel room bed.

“What the fuck, Dean?” Sam twisted sharply against his restraints, panic and the quick flash of anger sending almost enough adrenaline through him to break free. He heard the wood of the headboard creak in protest.

Dean just kept giving him that intense look as he crawled slowly back up his body, his eyes locked on Sam’s.

The expanse of warm, golden skin moving up the length of him did funny things to the pit of Sam’s stomach. It was hard to stay pissed off at Dean - no matter how much the idea of having his picture taken in this position freaked Sam out - when he looked like this, with the dingy yellow light from the motel lamps making his skin glow.

And the way he languidly settled on top of Sam’s chest wasn’t helping either. It was like Dean had no bones in him - well, except for the hard-on pressing against Sam’s belly - as he snuggled close. All hint of the tension tracing his muscles when he’d removed his clothing was gone. Sam felt his own body relax as the warmth of Dean’s enveloped him.

“Look, Sammy,” Dean’s breath brushed lightly across Sam’s face as he held the cell phone close so Sam could see the picture. “See how beautiful you are?”

Sam turned his head to take a look; all he saw was his usual skinny self, only dirtier and more flushed. At least the picture was from the chest up. Not surprising since Dean had been straddling his hips when he took it, but Sam had still been a little worried that certain bits he’d rather keep between himself and his partner might show up.

“You really don’t see it, do you, Sammy?” Dean asked gently. Sam turned his head back to meet Dean’s eyes only to find Dean’s face was far closer than he’d realized. His nose slid across Dean’s cheek as his head turned, settling in next to it, lips almost pressed together. He could feel Dean’s breath floating across his mouth and the faint brush of Dean’s lips against his as his brother continued to speak.

“Look again, with my eyes this time.” There was a soft note of command to Dean’s voice; so Sam looked again.

This time he noticed the way Dean’s thumb - all blunt tipped and callused - rubbed lightly across the image. It was almost like he was playing peek-a-boo with Sam’s image, or caressing it. He felt Dean’s face skim alongside his; aligning with Sam’s so they could look at the image together.

He could feel Dean’s cock twitch eagerly between them and the sharp hitch of breath catch in Dean’s throat as they studied the photo together. Dean’s thumb started tracing the outline of Sam’s body; God, how Sam wanted to touch Dean like that.

“Let me go, Dean” he pleaded; need deepening his voice to almost the same pitch as Dean’s. He felt a groan rumble deep in Dean’s chest, felt Dean’s cock twitch in response to the desperation in Sam’s voice, felt hot, sticky pre-come leaking between them.

He also felt the tension return to Dean’s body like a jolt. The air crackling around them as Dean abruptly shifted back into his chosen role for this game, no longer the older brother reassuring Sam that he was beautiful.

Dean pushed himself up so that he was hovering over Sam with a knee pressed firmly to either side of Sam's chest. Sam was convinced Dean would take the cuffs off now and let him reciprocate, but no, Dean just planted a hand on each side of Sam’s face and smirked down at him.

“Why do you want me to do that, Sammy?” he drawled. “Do you want to touch me?”

“You know I do,” he growled back up at Dean in frustration, savoring the way his brother’s eyes dilated at the sound of his still raspy, fucked senseless voice even as he sank back into the helpless, horny need of earlier.

“Where?” Dean demanded quietly. “Where do you want to touch me, Sammy?”

“Your dick.” Sam knew he was whimpering but he didn’t care. He needed to touch his brother _now_ , damn it. “I want to wrap my fingers around your cock and jerk you off.”

“What?” Dean leered down at him. “I don’t get any foreplay?”

“Let me go, Dean, and I’ll show you foreplay,” he grumbled, trying once more to twist his hands free. Wondering why Dean wasn’t letting him go.

“Tsk, tsk.” Dean was still smirking at him, the bastard. “That’s not the way this works, Sammy-boy. Tell me what you want to do to me.”

The realization that Dean wasn’t going to let him go until he did as he was asked finally sank in. In all honesty, the thought of telling Dean exactly what he wanted to do to him was pretty fucking hot.

“I want to grab you by the neck and drag that dirty little mouth of yours down here so I can kiss you senseless,” he heard himself saying. Seeing the flush creep up his brothers neck and his eyes go wide with lust right before Dean leaned down to press his mouth against Sam's made the unfamiliar crudity worth it.

This time - other than bringing his head down so Sam could reach it - Dean let Sam control the kiss. Let his lips open so Sam could plunder his hot mouth, tasting the traces of ice cream and come still coating Dean’s tongue.

He gently sucked on Dean’s lower lip, delighting in this chance to feel Dean’s low moan of pleasure vibrate past his lips. Sam shivered slightly in anticipation as Dean allowed his hips to settle back down onto his chest. The heavy weight of Dean’s balls pressed against him, but he kept enough arch in his back to keep his dick from sliding against Sam’s sweat slick chest.

Sam was a little awed by his brother’s self-control; if their positions were reversed he’d be humping Dean like a horny little puppy by now.

“What else?” Dean whispered against his lips when Sam pulled back to catch his breath.

“I want to run my hands across your chest.” Sam heard his voice, heavy and thick with emotions he wasn’t sure he could name.

Dean’s strong, blunt fingers stroked lightly up his abdomen, but Sam had a hard time focusing on them. He was too busy gazing up into Dean’s eyes, watching them – transfixed - as they glazed over.

He’d watched Dean’s face a million times while they fucked, while he stroked and licked and stimulated Dean to orgasm; but he’d never seen Dean reacting to his own touch before, masturbating for him, for Sam. The awareness that this was leading up to Dean doing just that flowed hot and electric through Sam’s body.

It was the lack of movement that finally pulled his gaze down to Dean’s hands; they were hovering over Dean’s nipples, fingers trembling slightly as if awaiting Sam’s permission to stroke the sensitive nubs.

“Oh God, yes, Dean,” Sam gasped. “I want you to play with your nipples for me.”

Dean’s breathing hollowed out and Sam saw tiny beads of sweat forming on his brother’s chest as Dean’s fingers brushed over his responsive flesh. Dean let out a little gasp and let his head tilt back slightly even though his slitted eyes stayed locked on Sam.

“Twist them for me, Dean” he added huskily, wanting to see Dean apply some of the same torture to himself that he usually reserved for Sam.

Sam’s mouth went dry as a bone as Dean pinched one taut nipple between his fingers, a low moan escaping Dean’s throat to scrape along the edge of Sam’s senses. Sam licked his lips and realized he had the sudden urge for something sweet and sticky.

“Dean.” Even to his own ears, Sam’s voice sounded dry and harsh but Dean didn’t seem to hear. So Sam cleared his throat and tried again, a little more forcefully. “Dean, I need to taste you. I want to lick the ice cream off of _you_.”

He felt Dean’s balls tighten eagerly against his stomach but Dean just tilted his head back down and frowned.

Sam knew that this wasn’t part of the rules of this new game of Dean’s but he needed it. He needed to touch his brother again, even if it was just with lips and tongue. It wasn’t enough to let Dean do all the touching for – of – both of them.

Dean must have seen how important this was, how desperate Sam was, because he leaned over the edge of the bed to snatch up the container of ice cream.

Dean stirred the ice cream first, his intense gaze never leaving Sam’s face as he worked the melted edges back into the frozen core. Once that was done, he placed the spoon alongside Sam’s lips. Sam delicately licked a stray drop off the tip, loving the way Dean’s breathing hitched as his eyes focused in on Sam’s mouth.

He let his tongue curl up around the underside of the spoon, giving it a slow, sensual lick as Dean growled low in his throat above him, thighs clenching tighter around Sammy’s chest. Sam loved the way Dean’s legs curled around him, like they were formed for the sole purpose of winding around Sam.

Dean dragged the spoon away before Sam could enfold his lips around it and suck the ice cream off the top. Leisurely, he mirrored Sam’s treatment of the spoons underside; licking the top clean with one wickedly slow swipe of his tongue.

Dean set the spoon aside before pushing two fingers into the sticky mess of ice cream, coming up out of the container covered with the sweet substance. Dean moaned quietly as he traced the frosty goo around one areole, causing it to peak eagerly under the onslaught of warmth and chill and firm, sure strokes of blunt fingers.

A shiver of power and _want_ filled Sam as Dean angled himself lower; aligning his coated nipple with Sam’s waiting mouth. A cool drop of cherry-vanilla ice cream splashed across Sam’s taste buds as he flicked his tongue lightly across Dean’s hardened tip.

He felt Dean shake at the light brush across his sensitive nerve endings. Dean whispered a pleading, “Sammy,” into the air above him. Dean didn’t beg with any more words than that, but Sam felt the urgency in the way Dean expanded his chest, bringing it closer as he practically rammed his nipple against Sam’s teeth.

Sam closed his eyes as he opened up and took Dean’s taut flesh into his mouth, savoring the mingled sounds of Dean’s throaty groans and the soft slurping of his own mouth as he suckled.

Dean’s legs pressed tight as a vise against his sides as Sam twirled his tongue around the pebble hard nipple in his mouth; he felt more than heard the growl of need vibrating deep in Dean’s chest.

He pressed his mouth, open and hot, against Dean’s pectoral; swirling his tongue against fevered flesh as he let the taste of chocolate and cherries and vanilla and sweat soaked Dean overwhelm him. The sudden sharp pain in his scalp as Dean clutched a handful of hair made him bite down, hard.

Teeth scraped across Dean’s chest to capture his nipple, Sam suckled the abused flesh gently as Dean bucked frantically against him with an agonized hiss.

He felt the tremor in the legs pressed tight along his ribs, even before Dean’s harsh, urgent rasp of, “Sam,” passed his lips and he knew that Dean couldn’t hold back much longer. There was a slight pop as Dean pulled himself off of Sam’s hungry mouth with a groan, every muscle in his body vibrating with need against Sam.

He looked up unto Dean’s glassy eyes; his brother’s pupils were blown wide with lust. Sam wet his lips nervously. He needed to get Dean off, now. He fervently hoped he’d picked up enough dirty talk from Dean to accomplish his task.

“Dean, I need you to touch yourself,” Sam whispered tensely. He twisted under his brother, not in an attempt to get away this time, but to allow his sweat-slick skin to brush along the inside of Dean’s legs in encouragement. “I want you to wrap your cock in those sexy fingers of yours and stroke yourself for me. Do it, just like I would.”

Dean braced one hand on the headboard above him with a needy moan and wrapped the strong fingers of his other hand around his aching cock, pulling the foreskin back slowly, forcing out a drop of pre-come. He swiped his thumb across his head, smearing the liquid before setting an agonizingly slow pace for himself.

Sam watched silent as Dean’s hand slid firmly up and down his cock before he let his gaze wander hungrily up Dean’s chest. His eyes took in the sheen of sweat coating Dean’s skin, the muscles bunching beneath, the way Dean's sharp, white teeth worried his lower lip, how his arm quivered under the strain of keeping him from collapsing on top of Sam. The faint slap of Dean’s hand as it worked slowly up and down his length competed with the sound of Dean’s harsh, strained breathing and soft moans.

A raw, primal groan emerged from Dean’s lips before Sammy hoarsely instructed, “Faster Dean, you’re so close. Stroke yourself for me, harder Dean.”

“Come for me Dean,” Sam whispered, his voice raw. “I want your come splashing on my chest. Taste you all salty and bitter on my tongue; I want to feel you hot and wet on my face.”

Dean shuddered at the words, his back arching as his arm and leg muscles strained. The soft, slapping sound of his hand was louder now with the increase in speed and a low keening scraped past his vocal cords as the orgasm built rapidly within.

“Come on Dean,” Sam pleaded with a throaty moan as he writhed between Dean’s thighs again. “Picture my hands pumping you, curled around your cock; imagine my fingers twisting slightly as they stroke up your smooth, stiff length. My grip tight as I move back down to the base of your cock, your hard, aching cock that is _begging_ for me to suck your juices off the tip of it.”

“Fuck… _Sammy_ ,” Dean gasped as his body spasmed in reaction to Sammy’s words. His ass rose off Sam’s chest so he could angle his hips down into him. Sam felt the hot streams of come spurting out over him as Dean’s knuckles scraped across his skin, still pumping frantically.

Sam watched transfixed as Dean fell apart above him, his full lips parted, face flushed and sweaty, his eyes open, unfocused but darker than Sam had ever seen them.

Sam tried to catch some of the glittering pearls of come on his lips but Dean was pressed tight against his breastbone and the closest bit of come was dribbling down the side of his neck.

Dean let out one last, long shudder as his long lashes fluttered closed and then he was collapsing on top of Sam, the arm that had been holding him up falling heavily next to Sam’s head as his body curled down over him.

“Oh God, Sammy,” Dean muttered, raspy and deep, his lips brushing against Sam’s ear before sliding down his neck to where the come had spilled; lapping it up like a cat before he moved down to Sam’s torso. Each wet swipe of tongue sent a shiver down Sam's spine.

He couldn’t even remember when he’d gotten hard again but he knew that Dean wasn’t going to be able to take care of it for a while. His brother was running on fumes and the desire to clean every last drop off Sam’s chest as it was.

“Dean,” he felt a giggle bubble up as Dean worked his tongue into the hollow of his throat, one of his more ticklish spots as Dean well knew. He waited till Dean looked up at him before continuing. “Think you can turn me loose yet?”

He watched the slow, sexy smile light Dean’s eyes before his brother stretched languidly to reach his wrists. Sam twisted his head up, as Dean fumbled for a moment before pressing something on the cuffs, causing that side to snap open.

He lay there for a second, stunned that Dean hadn’t needed a key – or even a pick – to open the damn things; then Dean’s mouth was pressed against his, he felt Dean laughing as he kissed Sam.

He’d almost managed to get his arms working and wrapped around Dean when Dean broke the kiss.

“As you wish, Sammy,” Dean whispered softy as he pulled away; ignoring Sam’s groan of frustration as he rolled over and curled up into Sam’s side, instantly asleep.

Sam wasn’t sure how he was going to pay back Dean for this one, but he would. Somehow, someday; Dean owed him big time for not telling him about those damned handcuffs.  



End file.
